Title: A North America Sleepover
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: USCAN
Summary: America has had plenty sleepovers—without Canada though. He wants everything to go right, and since he's the hero, that shouldn't be a problem, right?
Rating: K+ to T
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, slash, OOC-ness, and use of human names.
Word Count: 2,240
Song: Animal — Neon Trees
a/n: For CluelessUke. She's sort of my penpal right now. :'D This is a fic-exchnage, wheee~! I've been busy with work so sorry it's up so late. ^^; Anyway… I'm going to shamelessly advertise: GO CHECK OUT HER FICS. Like, seriously. They're amazing. I sort of totally stalk them. 8D
Note: takes place in present time. Mentions of WW2, barely.
Disclaimer: Hetalia (HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA), Spiderman (MARVEL), Titanic (…TITANIC, LOL), Skype, and Google do not belong to me.
America is nervous.
Despite Canada being so close to his country, they've never actually done the one thing America loves:
A sleep over.
He's always inviting Japan or having to host to the other Allies during WW2 (Canada never showed; he worried that he would've been forgotten and locked out of the house despite America's protests), but he's never just individually invited Canada. No phone call, no letter… not even an email or Skype!
The prospect of actually spending quality alone time with the quiet yet strong nation makes America's heart soar. He's tingling all the way from his head to his toes with excitement.
Oh, and those rumours about American being totally insanely in love with his brother? America won't deny or confirm them. Because America the hero doesn't have time for romance. Besides, all epic super hero romances end in shit. Take a look at Spiderman and Jane. And… and…
Even Rose and Jack. (Yes, they lack the epic-hero depth, but just go with America, okay? Jack did show Rose the way of a crazy, free life! He saved her from leading on a totally boring and snobby rich-lady life. And it's true that their relationship ended rather shit-like. 'Cuz Jack's dead at the bottom of the ocean. And that sort of ruins any future dates Rose was planning).
America digresses!
He's going to invite Canada for a sleepover and they're going to have the most amazing time ever!
Then it dawns on America that he really doesn't know how a sleep over works, because when it's Japan they watch scary Japanese movies until America cries himself to sleep in the fetal position; while when it was the Allies they bickered, fought, and yelled (while trying to strategize) until they passed out (and maybe America drew on the Commie's face… maybe).
… Dang. How is this going to work?
Good thing there's a meeting today, America thinks optimistically.
"Bitch, please. Those stripes, like, totally clash. Like, go back to your closet or something because you're, like, totally embarrassing yourself. You call yourself, like, progressive in fashion? Like, please."
America looks down at the American flag pin on his good ol' bomber jacket, but realizes that Poland's attitude isn't being directed at him, rather, at South Italy. America edges away as the Italy gives an infuriated screech, fists coming forward ("Did you call me a bitch? And diss my clothes? Oh hell no! Just wait 'till I sick the Italian mafia on your ass, you stupid wannabe valley-girl-guy! Fuck you!") and a previously distracted Spain yelping and trying to hold his former charge back.
America went to his usual seat by England for the scheduled meeting. This time it takes place in America's famed state, New York. It took much coaxing to his boss to allow the meeting to take place here (after the last time they hosted it, England got drunk and tried to go to Washington and burn the White House down… again). America's boss hadn't been impressed.
Anyway, America was proud to have all the nations at his place again.
England huffs beside him; soon regarding America with a critical eye. "Where is your presentation?" he asks sternly.
American shrugs. "I don't go today. I present that thing on fossil fuels tomorrow."
England hums, seemingly about to scold him when France dances into the room (yes, dances), a rose in his hand and Prussia following behind. Prussia looks disinterested with the chaotic happenings in the room, whereas France is dancing to… England. England looks horrified, and America can't hold back his laugh as France talks about l'amour and how he'd like England to accompany him to dinner.
(Hm. Usually France asks England to join him in his bedroom… perhaps he's changing? America mentally laughs. Nahhhh.)
Then he sees Canada, quietly in his seat and clutching his polar bear, Kumajiro. America smiles widely at his brother until he notices Russia, who is about to sit on him and America will not stand for that. Er, America will have to stand, but to, you know, stop that Commie. Yeah.
"Hey, Commie!" Russia looks up from Matthew (who is quietly protesting, eyes wide and head shaking back and forth), eyes narrowing.
"Ah, if it isn't Amerika. I knew it was you from your annoying accent."
America smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and he's pretty sure his face looks scary. "Ahaha, good one Russia! Anyway, did you hear? Latvia and Estonia were talking about living in your house again! I think they wanna become one with you." Okay, that was a total underhand move and America will definitely have to send said nations some "I'm sorry I sicked Russia on you!" gifts, but he'll do anything to make sure nobody takes advantage of Canada's quietness.
Russia has this creepy glint in his eye; then he's grasping at something under his coat—something America realizes is oh shit, his water pipe—and heading towards Estonia and Latvia. Lithuania spots Russia and instantly quivers, leaving to go join Poland (who is still busy dissing South Italy's clothes).
America exhales, feeling accomplished. He looks at his brother, a soft smile on his face. "Hey, so I was actually looking for you." Canada is a bit flushed (oh gosh, did Russia say something to upset him?), and he nods his head.
"What is it?"
Well I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a sleepover. Y'know… a sleep over.
A sleepover at my house? Was wondering if you'd like to come and stuff.
Come to my sleepover so I can hug you.
Wait, no, … what?
"Sleepover. Me. You. My house." America spits out, really wanting to kick himself in the pants. Canada looks a bit gob smacked, but then he's smiling widely.
"I'd like that, Alfred."
America takes a deep inhalation of breath, eyes widening and Texas slipping down his nose. His heart is thundering in his chest and his palms are becoming sweatier than they should.
Because Canada called him by his name.
And that's so totally amazingly intimate.
"Y—" America chokes on his next words, but manages say what he needs to. "Y-yeah. Me too. See ya at my house tonight, Mattie!"
America runs back to his seat and misses Canada blushing deeply.
America is at his house, popping popcorn and directing Tony around the house, trying to set everything up before Canada arrives. Japan popped by earlier, dropping off some video games for them to play. To be honest, America didn't know what Canada would want to do.
When his doorbell rings America fumbles around with the comforters in his hands, barely standing upright as he trips by his couch. He settles for shoving the blankets haphazardly on his couch and running to the door. He unlocks it and flings it open, panting from excitement and his flustered state.
Canada is staring at him, violet eyes staring at him in shock. He's wearing a baggy red sweater, a white maple leaf embroidered on the front. Canada has a black duffle bag slung over his shoulder, filled with all the things he'll need for the night. America is staring at how perfectly his blonde hair frames his brother's face, loving the twisty strand of hair that refuses to obey gravity. "Hey!" America finally spits out, hoping his voice isn't as breathy as it sounds.
Canada smiles, a hand going to his hair and scratchy in a nervous gesture that America recognizes well. America steps aside to let his brother in, and Canada enters. "Wow, you cleaned up." Canada says, a teasing smile on his face.
America grins. "Yeah! Tony helped out. He's doing crosswords or something right now."
They enter America's living room, America taking Canada's bag for him and resting it by his giant theatre system. Just as America rests it on the floor, Canada is grabbing the sleeve of America's bomber jacket and he tugs it shyly. America pinks and gives his brother complete attention.
"So what are we going to do, eh?" Canada asks, quietly. He looks unsure, and America hopes he's just as lost as himself. "I… haven't been to a sleepover in awhile, Alfred." America freezes at the use of his human name. He's trying to fight back an excited 'whoop', so he settles for a giddy grin. He loves how Canada suddenly goes wide eyed, hand dropping from his sleeve and cheeks flushing. Alfred loves Canada's—no, Matthew's various expressions. Then he remembers that they're talking about sleepovers.
"O-obviously we do sleepover stuff!" he supplies unhelpfully.
"Sleepover stuff?" Matthew inquires.
"Yeah!" Alfred begins pulling off his jacket to reveal his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pyjama top, causing Matthew to chuckle fondly. "Uh," Alfred looks at the pillows Tony brought out earlier. Looking at Matthew, who is waiting expectantly, Alfred does the only thing his brain is suggesting:
He grabs a pillow and swings it at Matthew.
Matthew gasps, hair flying in every direction from the cushiony blow. He's laughing, but looking at Alfred in disbelief. "Seriously?" he giggles. Alfred looks embarrassed, but is relieved with Matthew dashes behind him and grabs the other pillow, whipping it into Alfred's stomach. Alfred laughs rather uproariously, hitting Matthew again and again. Matthew has to squeak 'Mercy' to get Alfred to stop.
When the American stops, he grins bashfully. "Heh, sorry. Forget my own strength sometimes." Matthew is glaring, but it's more affectionate than anything.
"Dork. Anyway," Matthew rests the pillow on the floor. "A pillow fight? Really?"
Alfred chuckles nervously now. "Uh yeah. That's what they do at sleepovers… right?" Matthew is just staring, and Alfred begins to get worried. Just as Matthew opens his mouth to speak, Alfred cuts him off—embarrassed and sheepish and every kind of regretful.
"Dude, I'm sorry. I-I thought that's what people do at sleepovers, y'know? I Googled it and everything!" Alfred drops the pillow onto the ground, hands going to his sides and trying to act heroic, even though he feels anything but that. He hates how he gets so dorky and lame around Matthew. He wants to be as cool as usual around his brother, but Alfred is a jumble of nerves whenever the Canadian is around. "I just wanted this to be perfect and awesome! I've only had Japan over and we just play games, and when the other dudes used to come over we were always fighting because that stupid Commie can't keep his Commie ideas to himself; b-but I wanted our sleepover to be perfect because you deserve it y'know and oh damn," Alfred facepalms, the bridge of Texas digging into his nose. "I was so not supposed to say that."
He's repeatedly facepalm-ing when Matthew grabs his wrist and stops him, pulling Alfred into a hug. He's giggling, his face nuzzling into Alfred's chest. "You dork." he states. Alfred can't take offence because 1) it's true and 2) Matthew is hugging him and acting all cute. "You don't have to impress me or anything, eh. I'll have fun with whatever we do. You manage to make the most random things fun." the Canadian laughs, shaking his head. Then, overjoyed, Alfred begins tickling him. Matthew squeaks, trying to gain control and tickle back but it's obvious that's a failure because Alfred is way too strong.
They continue like this—Alfred tickling a giggling and squeaking Matthew—until they tumble onto the floor, laughing so hard that Alfred is banging his fist against the floor and Matthew panting for breath.
Alfred and Matthew are laying side by side, calming down and just staring at each other. Alfred's hand moves and brushes hair from Matthew's forehead and eyes, smiling softly as Matthew pinks and takes a deep breath. "Y'know…" he starts, wanting to say how pretty Matthew looks, but chooses against it. He has to remind himself: Spiderman, Spiderman, Spiderman. He reluctantly pulls his hand away from his brother's face, smile widening. "It says on the sleepover list something about face masks and popcorn."
Matthew laughs, batting Alfred away and wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Mon dieu; we're not girls Alfred. We can pop in a movie and I can make pancakes."
Alfred grins, ruffling Matthew's hair. Matthew groans, a pout on his lips because he hates it when Alfred tangles his hair up (but he secretly loves the way Alfred laughs because of his reaction to it). "Sounds great. I'll help you out! The hero always helps others in need!"
"With pancakes?"
"Even with pancakes." Alfred amends.
After Matthew took over Alfred's state-of-the-art kitchen (Alfred flinging pancake batter at Mattthew, who was wearing the most adorable apron and frowning at him, which only increased the cute factor), they're on the couch, cuddled together and shovelling pancakes into their mouths. They're playing a silly action movie, blankets covering the both of them as gunfire starts onscreen. Alfred glances at is brother, who is smiling happily. The American grins, feeling accomplished.
Maybe they'll get together more often, since this was turning out to be a success. Matthew looks at Alfred, the both of them flushing as they realize they were trying to sneak glances at each other.
(When the movie ends, Alfred convinces Matthew to do face masks. He Googled some chocolate masks and he really wanted to eat something off his own face. Matthew laughed, but complied. Later, when they begin have regular sleepovers, they realize, laughing, that facemasks have become a tradition between the two).
TRANSLATIONS
l'amour- (the) Love
Amerika- America
Mon dieu- My God
-JANKZ